School term was full of high and lows

Turning in my final student reports on a Wednesday morning, the holiday officially began, leaving me only one full term of teaching left. This was a particularly short term, only 13 weeks, and though I was loath to start it after a vacation back in the states, it went well and it went quickly, as things in retrospect always seem to.

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By Ethan Martin

seacoastonline.com

By Ethan Martin

Posted May. 13, 2014 at 2:00 AM

By Ethan Martin

Posted May. 13, 2014 at 2:00 AM

» Social News

Turning in my final student reports on a Wednesday morning, the holiday officially began, leaving me only one full term of teaching left. This was a particularly short term, only 13 weeks, and though I was loath to start it after a vacation back in the states, it went well and it went quickly, as things in retrospect always seem to.

But it didn't start particularly well. A couple weeks after the term began, I was in the capital, Windhoek, for a meeting. Walking down a main street from the Peace Corps offices back to my hotel on a Tuesday evening, I was jumped by three guys and mugged on the street in plain view of dozens of witnesses, most of who were across the street at the KFC (with a drive-thru, open 24 hours). There was even a police officer, getting an evening meal and either indifferent or oblivious, despite my protracted screams, to the assault.

Two days later, I returned home to Otjimbingwe to celebrate my birthday, unburdened of phone and wallet, both of which I had been fond of. Worse though, was the loss of my sunglasses, which I had been wearing on top of my hat when I was mugged. The sun in Namibia is strong and shines often, and the unwilling promotion of these glasses, the only pair of quality sunglasses I have ever owned, was a minor tragedy because, not being an item essential for my service, I would not be compensated for their loss.

Back at work, I found that the grade eight classes had been reshuffled, giving me a whole bunch of new students. There was surely some reasoning behind this, one-third of the way through the term, but I never found out what it was. Because individual teachers cover the syllabus at their own pace and in their own order, it meant that these new students of mine had essentially missed out on everything I'd gone over the first four weeks.

In March, having done my best to adjust to life without sunglasses and a batch of new students, the government declared a national day of prayer to deal with the national crisis of so-called "passion killing." Put broadly, this is the term given to the pervasive and distasteful trend in Namibia of (mostly) men brutally murdering girlfriends and ex-girlfriends for such trivial offenses such as breaking up with said man, or denying him sex. It had been an issue since I arrived in the latter part of 2012, and had only gotten worse, to the point where this day of national prayer was called. Coincidentally, a traveler from the states who was visiting Otjimbingwe just happened to speak on such issues. Her presence and heartwarming speech about the worth and value of every person added greatly to my school's assembly, one of the most poignant and well-organized of all the assemblies I had been to. It also featured thematic dramas acted by students, a copy of the president's speech read by a senior teacher, and a prayer given by another teacher.

The term was not all major gloomy events. Day to day work and teaching went on as usual, or what I have come to accept as usual. Three-quarters of the way though my stint here in Otjimbingwe now, I'm starting to feel more settled in my role as volunteer and teacher and foreigner. My learners have adjusted to me well, and I am fairly well adjusted to them also. During the last couple of days of the term some of the kids in my homeroom class wrote me some very touching letters thanking me for being their teacher and telling me how much they like my class.

The last days of school, apart from the paperwork are always sweet. Work, much though there is, goes easily with the prospect of four weeks of holiday just days away. I decided that on the last day, just before I let my class out after writing their last exam, I'd arrange them for a class photo in our room. Taking, printing, and selling photos is one way I earn money for our school library and English club, but this one I will give to them as a gift. Kids here rarely get to see photos of themselves on anything but a tiny cellphone screen, if that. One thing I've learned teaching is that whether it's a period, a day, a week, or a term, it's always good to end on a good note.

Ethan Martin is in the Peace Corps and is currently serving in a village in central Namibia, teaching English to grades 8 and 9. The 2001 Exeter High School graduate's column on his travels appears occasionally in the News-Letter. His blog can be viewed at http://pcvwxnam.blogspot.com.